


Quickie Faun Fic

by Leloi



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Faun Sherlock Holmes, Faunjohn, Faunlock, Fauns & Satyrs, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 15:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19444195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leloi/pseuds/Leloi
Summary: Sherlock Holmes was lost.  Usually he had an impeccable sense of direction.  But he was not in his beloved city of London, he was in the woods.  The trees made it difficult to get his bearings.  Without the moon he only had torchlight to navigate.  But one tree looked like all the rest.





	Quickie Faun Fic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liperda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liperda/gifts).



> This came as a request from liperda. I wrote her a little pwp fic. I'm open to writing any plot bunnies that someone has. It helps keep the creative juices flowing!
> 
> There's two ways to tell an erotic story. One is flowery, romantic, and full of imagery, often associated with female writers. The other is bare bones, and abrupt, which is what you get in many of the "first time" anthologies.

Sherlock Holmes was lost. Usually he had an impeccable sense of direction. But he was not in his beloved city of London, he was in the woods. The trees made it difficult to get his bearings. Without the moon he only had torchlight to navigate. But one tree looked like all the rest. 

What had lured our dear detective out on a moonless night? A man at the window with horns on his head.

But our story begins twelve hours earlier when brother Mycroft suggested that Sherlock needed a holiday, “For your own sanity.” Sherlock had gone over a month with back to back cases and never any rest. His work was beginning to suffer due to his lack of sleep and food. Mycroft managed to whisk his younger brother away from the city to an unused country abode that was conveniently stocked with supplies. It usually spent time as a safe house, but Mycroft thought his brother needed the isolation more than any of the usual occupants. “I will return for you in two weeks, brother of mine.” Mycroft informed him before his driver took off, leaving Sherlock in a cloud of dust with an empty house, and nearby woods.

It was in those woods that Sherlock lost his sense of direction while chasing a man with horns on his head. Said man had been peeping into the windows of the house, causing Sherlock quite the shock to see another living soul. The horns gave him pause. But he was lured out of the house and searching the woods before he even thought to put on his coat or scarf.

And now it was getting cold.

Sherlock growled in frustration. 

Something in the shadows growled back.

“Come out!” Sherlock demanded. 

A being stepped out of the shadows. It was shaped like a man from the waist up. His legs were some sort of animal with cloven hooves. Between his legs hung a magnificent cock. 

“What are you?” Sherlock asked.

“Isn’t that obvious?” 

“Not really.”

“I am a faun. My name is Jawn.”

“John?” Sherlock echoed, looking the faun over from the top of his horns down to his hooves. His eyes lingered on someplace in between.

Sherlock never told anyone about his sexuality. Really he didn’t think it was anyone’s business… Not that he had time to act on it with all his cases. Emotional entanglements were not his area. But if we have to classify him into some sexuality box it would have the label of “gay.” As such, Sherlock appreciated the male form when it was in front of him. And this male had a very impressive form, despite the animal legs. The being’s erection caused him to have an erection in sympathy. Briefly he fantasized about being taken by such a magnificent cock. Quickly he buried those thoughts deep into his mind palace for later masturbation material. Even though he stayed away from emotional entanglements he did masturbate.

John stared back at him, a glint in his eyes from the torchlight. “Jawn… But John is close enough.”

“Why were you looking through the window?”

John took a step closer. “Do you want to touch me? You can.”

“No. I want to know what you were doing.” Sherlock answered.

“I was watching you.”

“That’s obvious. But why?”

The faun smiled and shook his head in the darkness, illuminated by one small torch. “Does there have to be a reason?”

“Do you watch everyone that inhabits the safe house?” 

“No, of course not.” John replied. 

Sherlock used his torch to illuminate the forest floor, unsure which way to go. 

“Are you lost?” John asked.

“Don’t be silly. Of course I know the way back to the house.” And with that he picked a direction and began to walk.

“You are going the wrong way.” The faun announced. “I will lead you back to your house. Follow me.”

They made their way through the woods. The creature had a short, fluffy tail like a goat or a deer. Sherlock kept an eye on it as the faun wove his way through the trees. Within fifteen minutes they were back at the house. It annoyed Sherlock that he could have found the place on his own, given the right direction. But the faun led him directly to the house.

“What will you give me?” John asked expectantly.

“What do you want?” Sherlock responded, suddenly unsure about the faun’s intentions. Did he mean to cause some sort of harm?

John leaned in and lightly kissed Sherlock on the lips. Sherlock blinked as the faun pulled back, unsure what to make of action. Was the kiss the payment? Or was there something more? The faun leaned in to kiss him again, deepening the kiss. Suddenly Sherlock was hungry for the contact and wrapped his arms around the being before him, kissing him deeply. Between them a heavy cock pressed against the front of the detective’s trousers.

The faun pulled away. “I want more.” His hands reached down to touch the flies of Sherlock’s trousers. “Do you want this?”

“God, yes…” Sherlock moaned, eagerly undoing his flies and allowing the faun to push down his trousers and pants. His cock was hard and ready for anything the faun had in mind.

Hastily the faun turned him around and pushed him so he was bent forward. He nearly lost his balance when a warm, wet tongue teased his anal sphincter. The sensation was almost decadent and yet completely filthy. The faun, John, did not seem to mind. 

Sherlock managed to take a couple of steps, enough to find support on the door of the house he was staying at. Something hard and hot breeched him and he cried out as the magnificent cock slid home within him. It was unlike anything he had ever imagined during masturbation. It was more than fingers or a dildo. There was a living, breathing male daring to touch him in ways he had only dreamed about.

“You like that?” The faun asked, breathing warm air against Sherlock’s neck.

“Y-yes…” Sherlock managed.

“Good.” John replied, reaching around to take Sherlock’s cock in hand. 

For a moment Sherlock was jealous at whomever had taught the faun to fuck. The detective did not like the thought that he was second to some other person. But realistically the faun had practice somewhere, he was that good. Within a few minutes Sherlock couldn’t stop himself from howling as his cock ejaculated. He came and came and came some more.

The being behind him pulled away and Sherlock turned to regard the faun. But the faun no longer had goat legs. His legs were that of a human. “What happened?”

John looked down at himself and shrugged. “I can take a variety of forms.”

Sherlock looked to the door of the house and then back at the former faun. “Would you like to come in?”

“I would love to.” John answered.

^.~

They were together for two weeks. For two weeks they shared pleasure multiple times a day. There was more sex than Sherlock could even imagine having with anyone, much less a wild forest god. Because that’s what John was… A forest god.

Too soon the time Sherlock had at the safe house was over. The next day he expected the car that would take him back to the city. It was time to say goodbye. “I wish you could come with me back to the city. But I know you’ll hate it.”

John sat beside him in their bed, his sandy blond hair messy from their most recent bought of fucking. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

“Can you leave the woods?” Sherlock answered the question with his own question.

“Of course I can.” The forest god answered. “I suppose I will have to cover myself so as not to frighten the humans we encounter.”

“You want to come home with me?”

“Oh God, yes.” John smiled at him with a smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes.

And so he did.

How the forest god came to adapt to city life is another story. But our detective was happy to have him in his bed and in his life. Maybe, just maybe, having some emotional entanglements were nice.

\--Fini


End file.
